


Tis But a Flesh Wound

by Magichris



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:33:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9642776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magichris/pseuds/Magichris
Summary: "What the fuck happened?" "Nothing. I'm fine." "That is not fine. You're bleeding, Jug." [Tumblr Prompt Request from "anon": Archie taking care of Jughead after getting beat up by the Reggie.]





	

“What the fuck happened?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“That is not _fine_.” Archie grabbed a hold of Jughead’s shoulders, one in each hand. “Jug, you’re bleeding.”

“Tis but a flesh wound,” he said, a sardonic smile gracing his lips, but it faded into a grimace and that was enough to make Archie turn the boy around and guide him to the nurse’s office. Jug wiped his nose on his sleeve.

As they walked - Jughead’s footfalls reluctant - Archie snatched the beanie from his head. He made a noise of protest, but Archie shushed him. That beanie had been a security blanket since Archie could remember. It was beat up and frayed, but Archie hadn’t seen him take it off in nearly - what? - ten years.

“It’s good to air out your head once in awhile. Give your brain a break,” he teased lightly.

“Yeah? What’s your excuse for lost brain cells? Helmet too tight?” Jughead shot back.

Archie laughed and pulled him into the nurse’s office. He sat Jughead down on the bed and looked around. Where was the nurse? He stepped back into the hall and looked both ways. No one in sight.

He went back inside and began to rifle through the drawers. Meh, he could take care of this himself. He pulled out bandaids and gauze then set them next to a bottle of antiseptic. 

When he looked back at Jughead, he was met with an arched eyebrow. 

“What?”

“We going to play doctor?”

Archie felt his cheeks and ears go warm and he could just imagine the skin turning the same color as his hair.

“I thought we agreed never to talk about that again?”

Jughead shrugged. “Maybe I’ve got a concussion. Selective amnesia.”

Archie hit him in the arm with Jug’s beanie then set it down beside him. He grabbed a few paper towels, wet them, and got to work cleaning off the blood on Jug’s face. Underneath, he discovered the cuts were on his lip and chin, and the area around his left eye was turning black and blue; blood was draining from his nose. Jesus.

“Hold this to your nose and tilt your head back.” He handed him a wad of paper towels and was pleased to find that Jughead didn’t argue.

“Looks like you’ve got quite the shiner. Gonna tell me who gave it to you?”

Jughead’s head was aimed to the ceiling but Archie caught the eyeroll. It didn’t matter; Archie knew. 

“Look, Reggie-”

“Don’t defend him,” Jughead said, voice firm with a surge of anger licking up the words. 

“I wasn’t going to. He’s a jerk. A lunkhead.”

“Yeah? Well, now _you’re_ a lunkhead too,” Jughead said, tilting his head forward to meet Archie’s eyes.

Archie didn’t argue, but it did sting a little. Not that he’d admit it. Not out loud. They’d stopped sharing feelings somewhere between eighth and ninth grade. Somewhere around the time that Jughead had told Archie _that_. That thing they never talked about again. That thing that soured their friendship. That thing that made them go from “Archie and Jughead” to “Archie” and “Jughead”. 

There was an energy exchange between them and Archie knew Jughead was thinking about it too.

The redhead grabbed the bottle and poured some of the clear liquid onto some gauze. “This is going to sting,” he warned him before cleaning the cuts.

Jughead barely winced and once it was all clean and bandaged he even cracked a smile and snarked, “Thinking of going to medical school?”

“Har-har,” Archie deadpanned as he cleaned up the supplies.

This wasn’t the first time he’d patched Jughead up. Once, in fourth grade, Jughead had gone through a skateboarding phase. He took a spill on a halfpipe and scraped both knees. Archie had bandaged him up with shaky hands, while Jughead held back tears.

“Remember that time I accidently snapped your chin in the buckle of your helmet when we were, like, five?”

Jughead rolled his eyes - always rolling his damn eyes - but there was a hint of a smile. “You scarred me for life. Couldn’t wear a helmet ever again. Which was hell when I fell off my Razor scooter a year later.”

“Then you started to wear this ratty thing to protect your brain,” Archie said as he picked up the beanie and thumbed the crown points.

“That isn’t why I started wearing it,” Jughead said and snatched it back, giving Archie an affronted look. 

“Then why?”

Jughead shrugged and averted his gaze. He put it back on his head.

“To hide?” Archie asked, gently. 

Silence fell between them until Archie broke it with a sigh as he sat beside him. 

Jughead reached up and touched the bandaid on his chin. “You’re not a _total_ lunkhead,” he said in a quiet, deciding tone. 

“ _You’re welcome_.”

Jughead laughed and the sound lifted Archie’s spirits considerably. He bumped Jug’s shoulder with his and offered him a smile. “Come on. Let’s go. I’ll walk you home.”

Jughead got up and waited for Archie to follow.

“So, what’d you get beat up for anyway?” he asked as they fell into step.

“My smart mouth,” Jughead quipped.

Archie laughed. “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Oh, shut up,” Jughead chuckled.

“ _You’re_ the one that needs to shut up, apparently.”

“Never.”

“Figures.” Archie held open the back door for him and led him across the parking lot.

“So, walking home together. Feels like old times.”

“It does.”

“It could be like this again.”

“Could it?”

Archie looked over at Jughead. “Yes.”

“Even after all that’s happened?”

“Even after all that’s happened.”

“Even after what I told you? After knowing how I feel?”

Archie hesitated then reached down and took Jughead’s hand.

For once, the darker haired boy didn’t have a snide remark or a quick-witted retort; he didn’t roll his eyes or let out a huff. Instead, he fell quiet and laced their fingers. 

“Even then. Maybe _especially_ then.”

Jughead tried to hide his smile, but Archie saw. Archie always saw.

“Race you,” the redhead said and their hands broke apart as he took off toward Jug’s home, leaving said boy shouting profanities and a call of “I’m injured!” between laughs. 

It did feel like old times, but as Archie ran he could still feel his hand tingling from the touch. So maybe it was less nostalgic and more so the start of something new. 

And admittedly Archie liked that.

He liked that a lot.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I have 12 Jarchie prompts from Tumblr that I'm working on. This is just #1. Stay tuned.


End file.
